Epidemic
by LoneTread
Summary: The sickness is spreading. 'The Fifth Page' pre ep. Oneshot. R&R.


**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine, etc. You know the drill.

**A/N:** This was written before the "Fifth Page" premiere. So, this should be read with the understanding that it is only my thoughts on what might happen. It should be expected to deviate significantly from canon, as I, not being Maia, have no idea how the episode is really going to turn out. I once again reserve the right for this to suck. Thank you.

* * *

**  
Epidemic**

When Diana and Maia got to the hospital, it was to find that they were not the only ones there. Far from it. 

People were scattered around the room. Diana's eyes widened as she recognized some of them: Sara James, Laurel Bryce, and even Alana Mareva. Feverish 4400s abounded throughout the place.

Wondering absently how Tom was holding up, she sat down with her daughter to wait.

* * *

Shawn sank back into the couch, drained. He'd released the woman's hands, and he half-heard her asking when it would start working, when she'd be able to see.

It hadn't worked. Wait, it hadn't _worked_? How could he possibly feel this awful and it not have worked?

Something was wrong. Closing his eyes, Shawn Farrell was able to acknowledge that to himself. Something was wrong.

Then his complete exhaustion overtook him and he blacked out.

* * *

Soon, Diana and Maia were called in to see the doctor.

The man turned to Diana as the pair entered, inquiring, "She's a 4400?"

"Yes," she responded.

The doctor nodded grimly. "Her and everyone else sick out there."

He stepped inconspicuously away from Maia. Diana did the same, lowering her voice and asking, "Do you know what's wrong with them?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "Does anyone understand _anything_ about these people, really?" His tone said the statement was not meant as an insult, but a fact. "To be completely honest, Ms. Skouris, I have no idea what we're dealing with here. I've never seen anything like it. So far, all we know is that it seems only 4400s are affected – everyone else, it appears, is immune." The physician paused, sighing; he looked discouraged. "But that's not enough."

"No," Diana agreed quietly, gazing over at Maia, "it's not."

* * *

When Shawn awakened, he found himself in a hospital, hooked up to who-knew-what, with someone he guessed was a nurse shuffling papers in a far corner.

"Excuse me," he called to her.

She turned, startled. Then, her voice full of relief, she said, "Oh, good, you're awake."

He nodded unnecessarily. "How long have I been here?"

"Since yesterday," the woman replied. Smiling, she sheepishly held up a newspaper for him to see. _"4400 Healer Hospitalized"_, it announced. It was clear that the headline-writer recognized the irony.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Do you know what's wrong with me?"

The nurse hesitated, but being Shawn Farrell had its advantages. After a minute, he got his answer in the form of a slow shake of the woman's head. "No," she told him, "and it's not just you. More than one 4400's shown up sick, here alone, and nationally, internationally – it's become an epidemic. But only among you guys. Frankly, I'm baffled. We all are. I have a feeling, too, that NTAC'll step in if something's not done – and what can we do?"

* * *

Diana Skouris walked into the NTAC building and met a sight almost as unwelcome as her daughter's face when she left her in the hospital: that of Nina Jarvis preparing to make an announcement.

Diana waited, and the woman informed them, "In case you are unaware, many of the 4400 have come down with a mysterious illness, and every doctor who's tried to treat one of them is completely at a loss. We've been asked to take over the investigation, and the only option I can see – presently, at least – is quarantine."

"Quarantine!" Diana repeated incredulously. "But this thing, whatever it is, is only affecting 4400s. What sense does it make to put them all in one place?"

"Quarantine for the sick," she clarified. "Do you have a better idea?"

* * *

Clad in the now-familiar quarantined-returnee garb, Shawn Farrell made his way slowly but determinedly across the room. He was wheelchair-bound for the time being. It was his personal theory that trying to use his healing abilities while sick had weakened his immune system and caused his condition to worsen rapidly – but whatever had done it, it was certainly frustrating.

He wasn't going to let it stop him, though. He'd spotted a little girl he recognized from his last stint in quarantine, and she looked like she needed a friend.

But then, he figured, he could use one, too.

* * *

**Post-"Fifth Page" A/N: **I should have watched "Lockdown" again before I wrote this; I forgot about Jarvis getting shot. Sorry – you can just pretend, I guess. Now tell me what you think!


End file.
